The Friend I Leave Behind
by White Wolf1
Summary: Shortly before his death, Aragorn reflects on his long friendship with Legolas.


**Disclaimer**: Must I say again that they do not belong to me? Of course, I must, so...

**Summary**: Shortly before his death, Aragorn reflects on his long friendship with Legolas.

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**THE FRIEND I LEAVE BEHIND**

by** White Wolf**

I suppose I am luckier than most. Death will not come to me like a thief hidden in the shadows of my life, ready to jump out and grab me when I least expect it. It will not come to me in a battle in which the shortening of my life would be a detriment to others. It will not come to me in nightmares, unbidden and frightening. I do not fear death. I am luckier than most because I choose death; it does not choose me.

I have lived a long life, thanks to the heritage I denied for so long. It stretched out before me as few mortal men have ever experienced. Now it draws to a close, as all mortal lives must.

I leave a beautiful wife, Arwen, that will grieve my death until her own. She chose her life with me, knowing full well that mortality would be her ultimate fate. I had urged her to sail several times, but looking back on our life together, I am selfish enough to admit that I am glad she chose me. Even if I could have altered the outcome, I would not have taken that choice away from her. Though it saddens me to think of her fading, it was her decision, and hers alone, to make.

I leave a son, who will be a great king in his own right. I have been privileged to rule a kingdom as fine as Gondor, and I have no fears for its future for I know that it will be in good hands when the crown sits upon Eldarion's head. He has two sons, either of which would do honor to the kingdom.

I also leave four daughters, who are each married with children of their own. They have good lives, and as a father, I could wish for nothing more.

The Telcontar line will continue on through as many ages as the Valar see fit to extend it. Could any man die more proud than I am to know that his blood will run through many succeeding generations, perhaps to the end of time? I think not.

However, it is not my family, my kingship or my legacy that I wish to speak of now. The subject of the thoughts I now indulge in is my dearest friend, Legolas Thranduilion.

He is known by many designations, though he will laugh and tell you that he could never compete with the many names that I have been known by over the years. Legolas is a noble prince, a fearless warrior, an archer of great renown and a benevolent, much-loved lord among the people of his home in Ithilien. He is loyal, trustworthy, courageous, compassionate and wise beyond even his numerous years. But most of all, he is a friend in all the varied meanings that one word can convey. Legolas has been more than a brother to me. He shares my heart.

If my praise sounds too good to be true, an idea he would agree with, since he is also humble, know that I do not even possess all the words that would do Legolas justice. He is quite simply the purest life I have ever encountered. I told him that once. When he finished laughing, he vehemently argued with me. I never said that to him again, because trying to win an argument with that elf is like trying to change the nature of a mountain range. Did I list incredible stubbornness among his, um, attributes?

I will miss him, though I know that in truth, it is he, an immortal, who will do the missing. I know that is why he was so reluctant, in the beginning, to befriend me. I am so grateful and so fortunate that he pushed his stubbornness aside and counted me among his friends. And once you become Legolas's friend, you are never the same. You can ask a certain dwarf by the name of Gimli, Lord of the Glittering Caves, how accurate that statement is.

I have learned so much from Legolas. He refined my attempts at archery, so that I became a fair shot. He made me privy to things that existed in Middle-earth that books and even my travels as a ranger had not shown me. I met others through him who, in turn, enhanced my life. Yet, it is the intangibles he taught me that mean the most.

I believe that I was born with a strong inner core. My mother, Gilrean, and my father, Arathorn, gave me the proper start, though I was too young to truly understand all they did for me.

Lord Elrond, an elf lord of the highest order, along with my foster brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, raised and nurtured me to fulfill my destiny. From them I received knowledge, the sense of right and wrong and the caring nature of a healer, including the skills of one. I could never thank them enough if I lived to the end of the next age.

Living as a ranger gave me the toughness I needed to rule as I have for these past hundred and twenty-two years.

I have not strayed from the subject of these musings, for it was Legolas who brought it all into focus. I found, sometimes to my surprise, everything that anyone has ever taught me existed somewhere in his life. Contained within that one elf there is knowledge, gentleness, caring, toughness and a powerful inner core. There is also a great deal of laughter.

I look upon Legolas the way I look at a crystal prism. Light comes in from all directions, enters the crystal and then exits in a stream of brilliant light.

In my life, Legolas is that crystal prism. He has allowed me, and in some of my more reluctant times, forced me, to take all that I was born with and all that others have given to me, and channel them into the man I have become.

I am a good man, but I will let history judge how well I have used what I was given and what I earned. I hope that no disgrace will fall on any of those who influenced me. If it does, it is my failing, not Legolas's.

Since we all tend to sanctify those we have lost in our lifetimes, turning a blind eye to their faults, some of you may think this has been a memorial to Legolas. However, for those who think it might be, fear not. The elf is very much alive. And yes, he does have his faults, though I cannot think of a single one at the moment (wink).

I hope he knows that he has always held a piece of my heart and always will. I am happy beyond words to know that it will not be long before he will be standing on the shores of Valinor, the true home of all elvenkind. I know he will think of me, as I, wherever I go, will think of him. He has enriched my life far beyond what it would have been without him, something I cannot begin to conceive of.

He takes with him my gratitude and my love, and I know he will hold them in his heart until we meet again.

King Aragorn Elessar Telcontar

February 26, IV 120

**x x x x x**

The day after Aragorn's state funeral, Legolas sat stunned, a piece of parchment hanging loosely from his right hand. He had tears in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

He looked up at Arwen, sitting across from him in the small private office that Aragorn had used during his years as king. It was informal and more befitting a somewhat scruffy ranger than the much larger, royal office he used for Gondor's public business.

"I cannot believe he actually wrote all these things down." Legolas's smile grew larger. "He used to tell me such things, and though I knew his feelings were heartfelt, I always believed he was often teasing me by exaggerating."

"About those things, Estel did not exaggerate. He truly meant every word, especially the last."

The smile remained on the elf's face, though he had to force it to remain there, or the tears would have fallen. Just knowing that his friend had taken the time, right before he knew he would die, to write out his thoughts on him and their friendship, touched the elf more than he could ever have put into words. "I know he loved me, but I never knew I had influenced him to the extent he talks about."

"You did," Arwen said softly. "He dreaded the thought that you would outlive him and have to watch him buried. But he dreaded even more that you would be killed in some way, and he would have to survive with only your memory."

Legolas sat silently for a long time. Then he looked at Arwen's sad face. "I am sorry, Arwen, if showing this to me has caused you more pain."

The now mortal elf shook her head. "No, Legolas, it has not. In fact, it has given me joy. I have always known how Estel felt about you, and of course, we discussed his future and mine and that of Gondor many times. It has given me much more happiness than sorrow to have seen that Estel wrote it down." Arwen looked fondly at Legolas, knowing that the elf was all but overwhelmed.

The widowed Queen of Gondor leaned forward and gently took the parchment out of Legolas's unresisting fingers. Then she held it up. "This will soon be a public document, and all of Gondor will know what we who love you have always known."

Legolas's eyes went wide. "Public? You would not!" he declared in horror.

"You do not think this should be published? It is part of a larger piece he wanted his subjects to remember him by. Besides, should the people of Gondor not know the regard with which their king held you, his dearest friend and a hero of the Quest?"

"The Quest was long before any of them were born."

"Exactly," Arwen replied with a sweet smile, her eyes sparkling. "It is part of history, and we all know that there are many historical details that are left out of the history books."

"You could leave this part out, as well. It is hardly history," Legolas said, as he waved his hand toward the parchment. "It is so personal," the elf whispered.

"It is part of the king's history." Looking at the elven prince closely, Arwen said, "Estel truly wanted others to know how he felt about you and the years the two of you shared." In a softer voice, she added, "However, if you do not wish it, Legolas, I will not make this part public.

In a lighter tone, Arwen remarked, "Look at it this way, Legolas, you will likely be gone from Arda before it is made available to the masses, so you need not be exposed to any embarrassment. If you are still on these shores, you will be back in Ithilien where your people will protect you."

Legolas sighed at those last teasing words. "I certainly hope so" The elf shook his head. "It seems Estel has managed, even in death, to get the last laugh. He knows how private I am, so I imagine this is his way of making sure I sail quickly and do not linger too long to mourn."

"Yes," Arwen agreed wistfully. "That would be our beloved Estel."

Legolas eyed the parchment one last time. Despite the sorrow both he and Arwen carried deep in their hearts, Estel had made a sincere declaration, and still managed, in the end, to bring a smile to both of their lips, which they were sure had been his subtle intention. And for that they were grateful.

Yes, that was their beloved Estel.

**The End**


End file.
